Irish Cream
by CoffeeSwan
Summary: Captain Swan Coffee Shop AU because why not. Lots of Fluff. Features fancy alcohol hence the T rating.


**I will write another chapter of Supersaviour soon, I promise. In the meantime, please enjoy this coffee shop AU because why not. I don't own OUAT.**

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Emma Swan walked into a cafe. Well, more like ran into a cafe. She was still too full of adrenaline after chasing after, and cuffing the bail jumper of the week this afternoon. Perhaps caffeine wasn't the best idea right now, she heard Mary Margaret's voice in her head but ignored it and plopped onto the soft seat directly opposite the counter, trying to catch her breath. After her heartbeat stabilised somewhat, she looked around, taking in her surroundings. She's never been in this cafe before, mostly because this part of town was populated by snooty rich people with whom she had nothing to do except in cases when they tried to escape the justice system. The case was very public, so the pay was going to be good. Why not take advantage of the luxuries usually offered to rich people only? The drinks in this place probably cost twice as much as your regular Starbucks, Emma thought, but approached the counter nonetheless.

"What can I get you, love?" - she was greeted by a smooth, accented voice and a pair of baby blue eyes. She bit her lip.

"I'm not sure, I usually go for a black coffee or a cocoa, but I don't know" - didn't rich people call their cocoa "Le Chocolatieu Chaud" or something?

The man nodded in understanding. "Is this your first Irish Cream experience then?" - the wink followed by his question made Emma roll her eyes at the blatant innuendo.

"Irish Cream?"

"That's the name of the place" - he pointed at the sign above the counter. Sure enough, the two words he just uttered so smoothly were engraved on the wall. Emma blushed. "Oh. Did you come up with it yourself?" - she raised her eyebrows teasingly. He nodded.

"Aye"

Emma was surprised at the revelation. He wasn't lying, so he really must have been more than just a barista.

"I wanted to capitalise on the rich people's love of fancy drinks while incorporating a piece of myself into the business" - he explained. Emma nodded in understanding.

"That's actually... not a bad idea" - she said slowly. He beamed.

"Why thank you very much, I thought so as well". Emma snorted.

"Do you actually serve Irish cream here?" - she asked, finding herself suddenly hungry for tasty alcohol.

"Not on its own at this time of day, I'm afraid. Unless it's St Patrick's Day. But I can make you a coffee or a hot chocolate with it?" - he offered, raising one eyebrow and smirking. Emma pondered that idea for a moment. She wasn't normally a fan of additives in her coffee, but the man across her appeared to know what he was doing...  
"Alright. Surprise me, Killian" - she proclaimed, reading his nametag for the first time. He winked and gestured to Emma's empty seat.

"Do sit down, love, I shall be back with your drink in a moment" - he promised. Emma let out a short laugh but sat back down, watching him unscrew a bottle of Bailey's and starting a coffee machine. She was right - despite his lax and flirty manner (did he offer the same customer service to his regulars?), this Killian was a professional. He mixed and poured the liquids with precision and a look of intense concentration on his face. Well, Emma supposed, one had to be a damn good professional if one wanted to make it in this particular district of Boston. Killian reminded her of one of those Prohibition Era bootleggers she saw in an old movie once - laid-back demeanour at first glance, but in reality, an excellent "businessman". And if she were honest with herself, a combination of his looks and his accent was... well, she understood the attaction the ladies of that time felt towards swashbuckling bootleggers.

"Here you go, m'lady" - his startling voice interrupted her musings. She looked up to see Killian carrying a small tray with a steaming cup full of deliciously-smelling caramel-coloured liquid.

"Thanks" - she smiled. - "What's in it?"

"Why don't you try a wee bit and tell me what you think is in it?" - he offered, leaning forward and placing his hands on a chair across Emma. She shrugged - "Why not?", and brought the cup to her lips.

The moment Emma took the first sip, she closed her eyes to savour the taste of... caramel? Whipped cream? Baileys mixed with coffee-flavoured condensed milk? Whatever it was, it was...

"Judging by your expression, I take it the drink is to your liking?" - Killian's voice made her open her eyes.

"Killian, this is... this is amazing!" - she exclaimed and took another sip.

"What do you think is in it?" - he asked, unable to hide his joy. Emma frowned.

"I can definitely taste Baileys..."

"What else?" - he prompted.

"Well, there's a bit of... caramel? And whipped cream? Like you'd get in a Frappuchino, but better... And coffee, obviously"

"Very good" - Killian smiled approvingly.

"What's it called?" - she asked, hoping to order it next time she chased a rich criminal. Killian shrugged.

"I don't know. What's your name, love?"

She snorted. "Seriously? Did you just make up a drink?"

He shrugged. "Aye. I rarely get an opportunity to surprise someone with my drink-inventing skills. Most people are too busy drinking Americanos" - he said the last word with disdain. Emma couldn't help but agree.

"It's Emma Swan" - she told him. He smiled even wider.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Emma Swan. Lovely name. I shall call the beverage "The Emma". Has quite a lovely ring to it, don't you think?"

Emma's jaw almost dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Quite, love. I can assure you, I shall not be serving this drink to others, however - it's exclusively yours."

She hated to admit it, but she was flattered.

"I.. don't know what to say, Killian. It's really sweet of you, but this drink should be sold. It's great. Really great. But..."

He frowned. "I apologise if I have offended you in any way."

"No, no, it's fine! I just.. well, I don't think your customers would be too happy with you merchandising a drink you named after some woman who doesn't even live anywhere nearby!"

"What if I call it... The Eimile?" - he asked. "It's Irish, so it would go with the theme of the place?"

Emma smiled. "I can work with that. It's Gaelic for Emma, I take it?"

Killian nodded. "You know, I can make you something else after you're done. On the house. Unless you've somewhere to be?"

Emma considered this for a moment. Cases were exhausting, and as appealing as throwing herself onto her couch and watching trashy TV usually sounded, a sweet beverage with a kick and a conversation with an attractive Irish man sounded even better.

"No. No, I'm free for the rest of the evening" - she bit her tongue after blurting the last part out. Killian smirked.

"Well then, I shall use my best endeavours to make sure your evening goes as well as possible, love".

"Is that a promise?" - she asked, grinning. Killian, however, adopted a mock serious expression.

"I solemnly swear that your evening will be good" - he spoke. Emma laughed.

"Seriously? You're making a Harry Potter reference?"

"Would you care for some pumpkin juice in your next beverage?" - he spoke in the same tone. Emma was laughing pretty hard by that point.

"No, I would not. I wouldn't say no to some hot chocolate with a little kick, if you can make that?" - apparently they were flirting now. Oh well, harmless flirting with a hot Irish guy whom she'll likely never see again wasn't going to hurt Emma.

"As you wish" - Killian walked towards his counter and Emma rolled her eyes.

"Now you're quoting Princess Bride?"

"Pirates are better than wizards, love" - he replied with a wink and busied himself with shaking a can of whipped cream as Emma watched him.

"Enjoying the view, are you?" - he asked suddenly, not turning his head. Emma blushed but didn't hesitate to reply.

"It is rather rare for someone to get my hot chocolate just right, you know."

"I'm sure my skills would satisfy you perfectly" - he finally turned to face her as she watched him press on the whipped cream nozzle. He sprinkled the white mountain that emerged with what Emma hoped was cinnamon and placed the large mug on a tray.

"Here you go, love" - Killian placed the tray in front of her, and she gasped. It was hard to make out unless she squinted, but there was no mistake.

Killian added a large amount of whipped cream to her drink. And on that white pile of fluff, there was a brown cinnamon swan.

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**Reviews are valued and appreciated :) **


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